A few nights ago it seemed to have happened, very suddenly. Without thinking about it, I was suddenly hit with the thought of "I'm ready." I felt ready for another pregnancy, and with that thought I had no guilt like I was having. I imagined being pregnant and not being filled with terror every moment. Yes, it'll be nerve wracking, but it won't be paralyzing anymore. I'll be able to get through it and trust that it'll be okay and no matter what, it'll be a miracle. I won't feel like I'm hurting my angel by trying for another. I feel ready to try again.
I'm ovulating today. It's hard to not keep track of days when I know my body so well. This is the first month we're not protecting against pregnancy, but we're also not trying either. Still, it's nerve-wracking. I thought that not ttc would be more peaceful, but it's not. I'm torn between wanting a baby now and wanting to not force anything. I want it to happen when it happens, in God's own time and not mine trying to force it, but everything in me mentally, physically and emotionally is screaming NOW. Still, I'm not ttc. I'm still just going with the flow and wondering what will happen, how long it'll take this time, how things will play out. I hate not being able to know where this year is going to take us. It started out so rough, just a week and a half into 2013 before my world crumbled. Now things feel bleak, and I hope that something comes along to fill it with cheer and hope. Above all, I hope a baby comes to us sometime in this year, I think that alone would be enough to fill the whole year again. I had so many plans for my last pregnancy and for the infant that would follow. Having them all stolen from me just leaves this year desperately empty. I want to fill it again. I want to have excitement again. I want to be happy and have each week to look forward to again. I want to look at my daughter and stop feeling the sadness of what she too lost but is too young to understand.
I never had such a strange first few steps upon a pending journey before. It's an odd mixture of emotions and so unsure of where it'll take us, but wherever that may be, it has already started. I can only hope that it leads me to my rainbow and away from such grey skies.
Tuesday, February 26, 2013
Monday, February 18, 2013
Cleared
Today is day nine of my first cycle since my miscarriage. My hCG results came back. Two weeks ago they were still too high at 21, but as of last Wednesday, they've fallen to 4. They were looking for anything under 5, so I'm now in the clear. This means that there isn't anything that was left in there that would cause complications or create further risks. Moreso, since I got my period right on time, it means that my body is back to working like normal. Physically, I've completed my miscarriage journey.
Not so emotionally. I still have my rough days. I go back and forth about trying to get pregnant again. Is it too soon? Is it disrespectful to Elizabeth's memory? Am I emotionally and mentally healed enough to create a pregnancy that won't be burdened with fears and panicking from the last one? Can I still mourn my little angel while rejoicing in a new blessing without feeling like a horrible mommy?
Today, before my phone call, I felt like I was ready. I'm not sure why. Last week was rough. I cried a lot. The holiday didn't help. But today, when I sat down and really thought it over, there was a peace. It wasn't a mental decision that said I'm ready to stop preventing, but something inside of me. In my moment of quiet, when I shushed all the fears and worries my mind plagues me with and just sat calmly, thinking deeper than mentally, I felt something inside say "it's time, I'm ready, I can handle this."
There's always been that little voice, so hard to normally hear. I'm not sure what it is, that deep down voice that usually gets strangled out by my louder voice, but I hear it at the most strange times. During my natural labor with my daughter, it was the only thing that got me through. When my mind shut down and I couldn't think and felt like I couldn't handle any more, that voice was the one that replaced mine. It said no medications, no IVs, and yes, I could get through this. It was right, to my surprise! That voice also taught me to parent that baby, shown me instincts that I hadn't known were there. That voice got me through my miscarriage and kept me from falling apart. And now, it tells me that I can stop being afraid of getting pregnant.
I have no plans to outright try to conceive. I'm leaving it in God's hands now. I won't be tracking, charting, temperature taking, and symptom spotting. I'm just going to ignore that part, and not protect against, and see what happens. With Katie, it took us 4 months of active trying to get pregnant. With Elizabeth, it took us 10 months. I'm still breastfeeding Katie, so I'm sure my cycles will be off and it'll be more difficult to become pregnant, but the goal isn't to become pregnant as quickly as possible. It's to leave that door open, so that when our next baby is meant to come to us, that door will be there, unlocked and welcoming. I admit, I'm more than ready to have a baby again. It's such an empty feeling, not having one. A rainbow would bring such a huge amount of healing.
It's hard to believe I'm starting this journey again. Twice I've done it, and the last time was supposed to take longer. It's such a bittersweet time, eager for a baby but longing for our angel. Carefully walking that line to ensure that the next baby is it's own being and personality, not weighed down by fears or wanting from the last.
Not so emotionally. I still have my rough days. I go back and forth about trying to get pregnant again. Is it too soon? Is it disrespectful to Elizabeth's memory? Am I emotionally and mentally healed enough to create a pregnancy that won't be burdened with fears and panicking from the last one? Can I still mourn my little angel while rejoicing in a new blessing without feeling like a horrible mommy?
Today, before my phone call, I felt like I was ready. I'm not sure why. Last week was rough. I cried a lot. The holiday didn't help. But today, when I sat down and really thought it over, there was a peace. It wasn't a mental decision that said I'm ready to stop preventing, but something inside of me. In my moment of quiet, when I shushed all the fears and worries my mind plagues me with and just sat calmly, thinking deeper than mentally, I felt something inside say "it's time, I'm ready, I can handle this."
There's always been that little voice, so hard to normally hear. I'm not sure what it is, that deep down voice that usually gets strangled out by my louder voice, but I hear it at the most strange times. During my natural labor with my daughter, it was the only thing that got me through. When my mind shut down and I couldn't think and felt like I couldn't handle any more, that voice was the one that replaced mine. It said no medications, no IVs, and yes, I could get through this. It was right, to my surprise! That voice also taught me to parent that baby, shown me instincts that I hadn't known were there. That voice got me through my miscarriage and kept me from falling apart. And now, it tells me that I can stop being afraid of getting pregnant.
I have no plans to outright try to conceive. I'm leaving it in God's hands now. I won't be tracking, charting, temperature taking, and symptom spotting. I'm just going to ignore that part, and not protect against, and see what happens. With Katie, it took us 4 months of active trying to get pregnant. With Elizabeth, it took us 10 months. I'm still breastfeeding Katie, so I'm sure my cycles will be off and it'll be more difficult to become pregnant, but the goal isn't to become pregnant as quickly as possible. It's to leave that door open, so that when our next baby is meant to come to us, that door will be there, unlocked and welcoming. I admit, I'm more than ready to have a baby again. It's such an empty feeling, not having one. A rainbow would bring such a huge amount of healing.
It's hard to believe I'm starting this journey again. Twice I've done it, and the last time was supposed to take longer. It's such a bittersweet time, eager for a baby but longing for our angel. Carefully walking that line to ensure that the next baby is it's own being and personality, not weighed down by fears or wanting from the last.
Sunday, February 10, 2013
Day One
Today is the first day of my first cycle after my miscarriage. It's been exactly 30 days since we suffered our lost, and today my body is taking the first step to move on from that experience, whether I'm ready or not.
I wasn't planning on starting this blog yet, as it seemed too soon. We're not TTC'ing for our rainbow, we're still holding off in respect and for our grief, but I thought it would be a good idea to keep a record of what is happening so I can see a pattern for when we are ttc. It seemed wrong to put it on our angel's blog, so here we are, a month or two early.
I'm still a jumble of emotions still. I want to cry in pain every time I see an infant. My arms beg constantly for me to have a baby that they can hold. I'm ripped in two and waiting to heal before my stormy skies can be blessed with a rainbow across them. I ache every day for the baby who isn't here, and all the shattered hopes of what my future was going to be like with our lost baby is still so raw.
Today is day one in my journey. Today begins when I'm able to start ttc whenever we're ready. From now on out, it's up to us and our emotions over our loss to govern when we can try for our next blessing. It's a big step. Something inside me keeps saying that this is a big day and it's important and to notice it. My grief holds me back from doing so, but something inside me knows better. Knows that there's a new adventure on the horizon and that one day, my feet will stop dragging along and I'll be ready to go chase it with gusto. I feel like I'm on autopilot right now, but I look forward to that day when I'll be healed enough to hold my daughter in my arms, hold my angel in my heart, and say confidently that I'm ready to try again, and begin searching those skies for those rainbow lines.
I wasn't planning on starting this blog yet, as it seemed too soon. We're not TTC'ing for our rainbow, we're still holding off in respect and for our grief, but I thought it would be a good idea to keep a record of what is happening so I can see a pattern for when we are ttc. It seemed wrong to put it on our angel's blog, so here we are, a month or two early.
I'm still a jumble of emotions still. I want to cry in pain every time I see an infant. My arms beg constantly for me to have a baby that they can hold. I'm ripped in two and waiting to heal before my stormy skies can be blessed with a rainbow across them. I ache every day for the baby who isn't here, and all the shattered hopes of what my future was going to be like with our lost baby is still so raw.
Today is day one in my journey. Today begins when I'm able to start ttc whenever we're ready. From now on out, it's up to us and our emotions over our loss to govern when we can try for our next blessing. It's a big step. Something inside me keeps saying that this is a big day and it's important and to notice it. My grief holds me back from doing so, but something inside me knows better. Knows that there's a new adventure on the horizon and that one day, my feet will stop dragging along and I'll be ready to go chase it with gusto. I feel like I'm on autopilot right now, but I look forward to that day when I'll be healed enough to hold my daughter in my arms, hold my angel in my heart, and say confidently that I'm ready to try again, and begin searching those skies for those rainbow lines.
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